


To boldly go

by sdwolfpup



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fans & Fandom, Based on a Tumblr Post, F/M, Star Trek References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25120837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdwolfpup/pseuds/sdwolfpup
Summary: Brienne finds the Star Trek tri-dimensional chess set of her dreams. Too bad she has to buy it from Jaime.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 108
Kudos: 269





	To boldly go

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot based on the following tumblr post from awhile ago: https://ajoblotofjunk.tumblr.com/post/613026579077120000 . The picture and text exchange at the start are taken directly from that post to save you from having to click over. Credit to mcshep-mcship for them.
> 
> I've been stuck on every other thing I'm writing and this has been nagging at me for awhile so I finally corralled it and wrote it down.

**Me** : Is the chess set still available?  
**Unknown number** : Yes  
**Me** : Does it wobble at all?  
**Unknown number** : Of course not. Can you not read? I wrote NEAR PERFECT CONDITION.  
**Me** : Well, why are you getting rid of it then.  
**Unknown number** : I'm busy. Do you want it or not? And don't even think of offering me less.  
**Me** : How about we play a game. If I win, I get 100 bucks off. If you win, I'll give you an extra 100.  
**Unknown number** : Fine. Meet me at the coffee shop on 5th and Wacuta at 4pm. Better wear your red shirt because I'm going to crush you.

  


* * *

  


Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. It was Brienne's favorite ethos out of the Star Trek universe – that there was every type of being imaginable in the universe and they combined in an infinite number of ways. But even she couldn't believe the man in the coffeeshop, and he _definitely_ couldn't be a Star Trek fan. An actor on one of the shows, maybe, although he'd have to be a special guest star or even an A-lister they convinced to be in one of the movies. But a regular fan? No way. The chess set he had set up in front of him had to belong to someone he knew. 

This would be the easiest hundred dollars she'd ever saved. 

Brienne took a breath and went inside, heading resolutely for the table. The man – broad-shouldered, golden-haired, a face that she would have bought on the show as some alien species that had spent millennia working towards human perfection – looked up as she neared, and his eyes widened in surprise. Whether it was because Brienne was a woman Trekkie or because she was a huge woman, she didn't know yet, and was not especially eager to find out. 

He looked her up and down, eyes green as Romulan blood, and smirked. Brienne tugged down her Next Gen captain's shirt. 

“Clever,” he said, nodding at her top. “And Captain pips, a bold choice.” The man was wearing a Star Trek Fiftieth Anniversary shirt and a smug smile. 

“You only said it had to be a red shirt.” 

“I meant--”

“I know what you meant,” she said a little sharply. She didn't need Star Trek explained to her, especially not by _him_. Brienne took the seat across from him and started examining the set. It had been listed as near perfect condition, and as far as she could see, it was. “Why didn't you list this as perfect condition?”

He shrugged. “It's been played. I try to be honest in my listings to avoid people being assholes once they see it in person. If I'd said perfect you would have held the smudges on the board against me.” 

“Only if I was an asshole.” 

“Your text messages suggested that was a possibility.”

“You were the one who got snotty over a simple question!” 

The man glared at her, obviously offended. “I said _near perfect_ , why would I say that if it wobbled? You can't play tri-dimensional chess if it wobbles, the pieces might fall.” 

“Why do you even have this set?” she asked. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning. 

“Well,” Brienne picked up one of the pieces and studied it critically. It could have been a set piece it was so well-maintained. “You don't seem like a Star Trek fan.” 

He gaped at her. “What does _that_ mean?”

“The shirt seems unnecessary. I'd buy the set whether you're a fan or not, so I'm just curious where you got it from.” 

“It's mine.” 

She set the piece down and gave him a bland stare between the boards. “Did a fan in your life give it to you?”

“ _I'm_ the fan,” he said, and if he'd been offended before he was downright pissed off now. She had no idea what he thought he stood to gain here, except to make fun of her for actually being a fan by pretending to be one himself. 

“Fine,” she said. “Name three Star Trek captains.” 

“How about three Enterprise captains, starting with Christopher Pike? Unless you want me to go chronologically in time in the Star Trek universe, in which case I should start with Jonathan Archer. There's James Tiberius Kirk, of course, who took over from Pike. Kirk's my personal favorite as a man of diplomacy _and_ action. Jean-Luc Picard captained the Enterprise-D and the Enterprise-E, which people like to overlook because they hate the later Next Gen movies so much, even though it first showed up in First Contact. 'But wait, Jaime,' you might be saying to yourself, 'what about the Enterprise B and C?' You're in luck, obnoxious stranger, because I know those, too. John Harriman was captain of the Enterprise-B, and so was Sulu's daughter, Demora. Enterprise-C, as all of us _true fans_ know, was captained by Rachel Garrett. I have more, would you like me to go on?” 

Brienne blinked. Opened her mouth, blinked again, and closed it. She shook her head, no. 

“Good.” He folded his arms over his chest, his nostrils flaring with anger. 

“I'm sorry,” Brienne said quietly. “I shouldn't have assumed.”

“You shouldn't have. I'd think someone like you would be the last person to judge another person based on how they look.” 

She huffed; he was right, it had been unfair of her, but he didn't have to be rude about it. “I can pay the four hundred dollars,” she said tightly. 

“No chance. We're playing a game, as promised. I want my extra money.” 

Brienne sighed and nodded, resetting the pieces she'd moved back to their starting positions. “I really am sorry,” she said.

The man, Jaime, she assumed from his brief rant, pursed his lips and then waved it off. “Nothing I haven't gotten before. I'll go first though. I'll be gold.”

 _Of course_ , she thought, stifling a sarcastic eyeroll. 

They played for awhile in silence. Brienne was a slow player, running through all the possible outcomes in detail, making conservative, defensive moves. Jaime took quick, aggressive actions. They were smart and tactical, but often straightforward. She was the first to capture a piece and he grunted in recognition when she did. 

“Nice move,” he said, then tilted his head and focused past the board on her again. “What's your name anyway, Captain?” 

“Brienne.” 

He studied the board for a moment and then moved another piece. Even as he did, she frowned. He'd capture her piece in two more moves, and it was one of her knights. Dammit. 

He knew it, too, because he flashed her a triumphant grin. “Your move, Captain Brienne.” 

“Just Brienne is fine,” she grumbled. 

A couple of minutes later, her knight now his, she furrowed her brow at the board. “Why are you getting rid of the set anyway?” she asked, stalling a bit for time to think through her options from here. 

“I told you, I don't have time to play it.”

“You're playing it now,” she noted, tapping her lips. When she looked at him, he jerked his gaze abruptly up from her mouth. 

“I don't have people to play it with, then,” he said sharply. “What does it matter?”

Brienne made her move, as confidently as she could. Jaime scanned the board and shifted his bishop and she stifled a groan. He was set to get her other knight already. “Because you're good at it,” she said, trying to see all the possibilities through.

“I can be as good as I want, but it's only collecting dust. Might as well go to someone who will use it.”

She spotted a way out for her knight and made her move. Jaime narrowed his eyes and then smiled a little. 

“I underestimated you,” he said, this time taking a little more time before he moved again. 

“That happens a lot,” she murmured. She felt Jaime studying her again, not the board, and she flushed a little. “People also _over_ estimate how much I like to play basketball, though.”

He laughed, a deep, pleasant sound that made her smile. “Which Trek is your favorite?” he asked. 

“Next Generation. It was my first one, and I sort of imprinted on it. Plus, I like how optimistic it is, the way they approach problems. And it had one of the best series finales of all time. What about you?” 

“Though I love the original series, I think my favorite is Deep Space Nine.” 

“Really?” she asked and he made a face. “Right, sorry, not making assumptions. What do you like about DS9?”

“This still feels like you're testing me,” he said lightly. “But I'll answer it since I'm definitely going home a hundred dollars richer than I anticipated and I'm feeling magnanimous.” 

Brienne gave him a swift, mock glare and then moved her piece. 

“I like how complicated it is,” Jaime said, making a responding move quickly. “The show is hopeful without being schmalzy, it's human without being superior. It's adult while still being accessible. Plus the mythology fascinates me.” He shrugged. “No Star Trek is without its problems, of course, but that one spoke the most to me. Regardless, hopefully we can agree that Star Trek Enterprise was the most disappointing series.” 

“Yes,” Brienne agreed vehemently.

They played on, talking about favorite episodes and characters, about series inconsistencies and cringe-worthy moments. And, eventually, about their experience as fans. 

“It was just me and my dad growing up,” Brienne said. She could see the end coming, and while Jaime was likely to win, she still had hope. “Star Trek kept me company, and then I found groups online to talk to about it and it was a lot easier to make friends when I didn't have to actually see people in person first.” 

Jaime made a low humming noise of assent, and she leaned back in her chair, squinting at him. 

“You don't think I can relate?” he asked, lifting his golden eyebrows in perfect arches. 

“Well... no.”

“So if I told you that I discovered the show and had to watch it in secret because my father doesn't approve of television-watching as a hobby; that my twin sister mocked me mercilessly when she found out and burned all the newspaper and magazine articles about the show that I'd so carefully cut out; that the first time I went to a convention when I was fifteen and fast-talked my way inside, no one would talk to me because they assumed I was there to make fun of them; that I bought this set for myself and am getting rid of it now because the only people I could get to play were women who just wanted to appease me and had no real interest, you wouldn't believe any of that?” 

She wanted to tell him he was lucky he had people who talked to him at least, that her loneliness had run so deep for so long the conversation they were having now over this chess set was the longest she'd had in person with a non-family member in years, but it seemed cruel to dismiss him when his voice was reedy with his own estrangement. He should have been able to have whatever he wanted, looking like he did, but it seemed the thing he most wanted he couldn't have, either: someone to share his enthusiasm about a show he deeply loved. 

“I guess you can relate in your own way,” she allowed. 

Jaime nodded at her, then moved his piece and looked somehow disappointed when he said, “Checkmate.” 

“What?” Brienne scanned the board, looking for a way out, and then gave a soft, annoyed growl that made Jaime grin. “I didn't even consider that move.” 

“You played a good game,” he said.

“Not good enough. But a deal's a deal, and I keep my word. Five hundred dollars. How do you want me to give you the money? I can do actual check or Venmo or Paypal.” 

“I have a proposition,” Jaime said, rolling her king around in his long fingers.

“Yes?” she asked, suddenly wary.

He smirked. “It's not what you think, Captain.” Brienne blushed, though whether it was from what he was insinuating or the way he formed the word Captain on his tongue, she wasn't sure. “What if you paid in games played instead?” 

“With you?”

“Obviously. That way I do get to use it at least a little before it's gone and you save five hundred dollars.” 

She could stand to save that kind of cash; it had been a foolish purchase from the first, but she'd always wanted a tri-dimensional chess set and she hadn't felt like waiting three more years for her thirtieth birthday. Still, those were vague terms at best. 

“What kind of an exchange rate are you thinking? Is one game worth ten dollars? Or a hundred?”

“How about fifty?”

That would be ten games, which seemed reasonable enough. “Here at the coffeeshop?”

“Sure,” he said. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

“Who keeps the chess set until it's paid off?” 

Jaime considered her for a second. “I'll take the boards and you take the pieces. Then at the end of our tenth game, it's yours.” 

“Once a week?”

“If time permits,” he said. “I do have a life.” 

Brienne looked down at her hands fiddling with the pieces of his that she'd captured. Of course he had a life, one that surely included a partner of some sort and plenty of non-Star Trek-loving friends, regardless of his fan story. Maybe even a cute dog. 

“Right, me too,” she said, swallowing down her embarrassment and hardly choking on the lie. “Well, we can work that out over text, I guess.” 

“So you agree?” he asked, and his tone was fast and a little high. Eager, she thought. He sounded eager. 

“Yes, I agree to the new terms.” 

“Splendid,” he said, beaming at her. Even his teeth were attractive. It was absurd. He stuck his hand out across the table and Brienne shook it. He had a firm, warm, perfectly-timed grip, until she tried to pull back and he held on for just a moment longer, his thumb rubbing over hers before he let her go. 

“I'm sure you'll learn a lot from me,” Jaime said airily. “You're welcome.” 

Brienne did roll her eyes then and was rewarded with another rich laugh. “Hopefully by the end of this you'll be more like Picard and less like Kirk,” she said. 

“Here I thought women would always choose Kirk over Picard.”

She snorted, loudly. “Men always think that. Good looks only get you so far.” 

“Really,” he drawled, and Brienne knew her cheeks were pink again. The curse of her pale skin; all her freckles did little to hide it. “Does that mean you think I'm good-looking?” 

“Don't troll for compliments, it doesn't suit you,” she sniffed. 

Jaime's smile was wide and delighted. “Noted, Captain. But I'm taking that as a yes.” 

If he was any other man and she was any other woman, she might have thought he was flirting with her. She allowed herself to indulge the fantasy that he was anyway. She'd see him ten more times to play chess and then never see him again, what could it hurt to pretend the gorgeous Star Trek fan might be a little charmed by her? She'd had a few interested private messages from people online, so she knew her personality could be enough. 

Of course the only one she'd ever responded to with a picture had quickly fizzled. 

Brienne gave him a tight-lipped smile and started collecting the pieces. Jaime handed over a small box to put them in and they worked quickly to clean everything up. Once it was done, she picked up the box and stood. “I guess that's it for today, then.” 

“I suppose so.” He stood, too, and she realized he was tall. Not as tall as she was, of course, but tall enough it wasn't as awkward as usual. Tall and broad and handsome and a Trekkie. If Brienne could have put her desires into a replicator and spit out her ideal man, this one might have been it. Too bad she lived in this universe and not the Star Trek one. 

“It was nice to meet you,” she said. And then, for reasons she would never understand but would castigate herself for until she saw him again, she gave him the Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper.”

Miraculously he just smiled, not cruelly at all, but rather gently amused, and mirrored her. “Peace and long life, Captain.” 

Brienne smiled back, and turned her salute into a goofy little wave. When she stepped out of the coffeeshop her phone dinged, and she glanced at the message. It was from the unknown number Jaime had texted her from before. After Brienne read it, she looked through the window and Jaime waved his phone at her. 

**Unknown number** : We didn't schedule for next time. I'm free next Saturday  
**Me** : Me too  
**Me** : Same time and place?  
**Unknown number** : Make it so

Brienne bit her lip and looked at him through the window again. Jaime made the 'Engage' finger point motion that Picard always did, and she grinned. 

Next time, she vowed, she would channel a little more Kirk herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's how it ends: they fall in love over the course of their nine games. Jaime insists she owes him an additional game and invites her over. They don't finish that one because they end up in bed instead. Some amount of months later when they get married, they end their vows by reciting the following quote to each other from an episode of Star Trek original flavor: 'May we together become greater than the sum of both of us.' Everyone cries. They go to cons together and live happily ever after.


End file.
